


Perfection

by discodeaky65



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: A literal miracle, Angst, Birth, Brian is a Dad, Charles is a Sweetheart, F/M, Fertility Issues, Fluffy, Marriage in the 70s, Previous stillbirth, two idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21598921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discodeaky65/pseuds/discodeaky65
Summary: Brian meets his Son for the first time.
Relationships: Brian May/ Child Original Characters, Brian May/OC, Brian May/OFC, Brian May/Original Female Character(s), Brian May/You, brian may/reader
Kudos: 11





	Perfection

  
December 2nd 1977  
Birmingham Hospital, England

_Brian May, 30_

  
_Queen bandmember Brian May has cheerfully announced the arrival of his First Son early hours of this morning. Insiders had claimed the baby would be born in Feltham, but sources have said the Mother and baby are resting at Birmingham Hospital. There has been no name or Birth Certificate presented and it is just a matter of time before we see the new baby. Queen Frontman, Freddie Mercury has made comments on his Bandmate's joyous occasion with a statement saying: "I'm happy for Brian and Cassandra, I really am, in fact we all are Roger, John and my cats are happy for him. He hasn't once stopped talking about it since he and his Wife told us they were expecting which says a lot really, you know I used to think he'd be the next Jimi Hendrix now I think he's going to have a Nursery full of children- I can't confirm, but I hope everything is well."_

* * *

  
The peculiar stench of a London Hospital was something that rakes his nostrils, as he strolls down those white, almost hauntingly death like corridors. The grip of his mental strength resides in those unsettled thoughts of death in the Hospital. He doesn't like the thought of children being metaphorically lost in a place that screams Death. No place for young children. He's watching a corpse, covered a white sheet like what's seen in those Crime Dramas on the television after ten, trundled into a lift vanishing within a second a blink. 

  
Nurses, Doctors and Panicked Midwives are spread out almost like children in the school playground, walking lightly, some walking merrily which brings new information of their personalities. He's wondering how some waists, so slender, can hold the burdens, the deaths of everyday Hospital Life. Such pain, so many deaths but their eyes remain innocent, almost emotionless. It almost shows how a Guilty Killer must be caught- Guilt eyed. 

  
And what would be echoing almost breaking that depressing barrier through a Hospital Corridor on a particularly quiet Tuesday evening, but the mystifying lyrics of I'm In Love With My Car. It makes Brian scoff, he's wondering with the remains of his dignity; who's going to listen to a madman with a car fetish while their Wife gives birth, or potentially dies... Whatever this area is. He can just imagine Roger, sitting by his deathbed, vowing to blast his song on the Grave of Brian Harold May. Oh it's something easy to imagine, really! 

  
He's body aches with those unsettled "What if" scenarios playing on a loop like a VHS Tape, those pictures of corpses spooking his conscience and he becomes uncertain, looking at the door that ever-so obviously leads to the Maternity Ward like the Golden Gates leading to Heaven, that he should really open those doors to the White Cave of birth and creation, and anxiety filled confusion. It truly becomes a tricky situation he's placed himself, like a mouse plunging for its cheese in the trap. The sincere, the building fear in the Maternity Ward causes him to tighten his grip on his coat. One day, it's the anxiety more than the casual realisation, I might be a Father. It makes him tremble inside, fear that he can't explain. The thought of his children's births, children growing up, brings the thoughts that he too will grow, old and he'll pass on. 

  
This is the reason Hospitals simply don't appeal to Brian Harold May. They always bring him to the gritty thoughts of death, how might he die? When might he die, most importantly; does he outlive his Wife, his future Children? He could ask as much as a thousand questions, maybe a million. But a voice, a mature womanly voice cuts off that reception to his imagination and he's sitting in real life, jacket in tow while the Woman he recognises as Cassandra's Midwife, soft greying blonde hair sitting neatly in a tight bun her while her discolouring hazel eyes twinkle like a shooting star. He smiles at this, taking in a greedy breath of relief. It must be over. "They're ready for you, Mr May." The Pronoun, not she, not Mrs May, but they're. Maybe everything has the chance of being dandy, and once he's overthinking the negative and worrying over nothing. 

  
He's never really been in a place like this, but even a strong man would weep in a place like this. Brian even feels the need to weep. All that passes, like motion sickness disappearing after the journey. The memories of being in this very same ward years ago and the feeling of failure that remained in the very rooms that Thomas had been brought into the world in. Only difference presently, is that there must be five sets of beds with new Mothers with their newborns instead of the dozens that sat happily while he and his love wept. 

  
He feels almost like he's searching High-and-Low for the right Wife. When he finds her, golden waves tucked tidily behind her ears sparkling with those earrings he'd given her as a lucky reminder. Bony Knees bent, while a bundle nests upon her deflating post-birth stomach like a bird in it's wicker nest. He's breathless. Eyes attracted to her natural no-makeup beauty and it's more natural, nothing like her photos with her natural-beauty swept away by finishing technology. Those Vogue magazine covers where she's dressed and painted like the next Van Gough painting with a pouted expression causing controversial questions whether Juliet had lost her Romeo. He often forgets her natural porcelain complexion, she'd been cleaned up likely after the birth and the tomato red complexion of a face wrinkled in pain was now a milky white with a light blush on the apples of her cheeks. Her freckles are out emphasised by the sunlight seeping through the windows and Brian can't help revelling them in, watching her with a soft smile almost questioning if everything was real or was he dreaming. So beautiful, but deadly to touch like a Thorn with poison.

  
She was donned in the same Hospital gown, white and bland to the eyes oversized and baggy over her slim body. Short sleeves massive compared to the white twig like arms beneath. In such a downgraded appearance, she could still be the prettiest diamond in his eye. From those frustratingly blue downturned wide eyes to ghostlike kisses on his flesh. Time had been good to her, she was still a beautiful Girl only with eyes a little more sunken from that unsurfaced grief and the stress that radiated her bones from pregnancy. But his daydreaming that consists of strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes leaves him, like the air being sucked out of him. Her voice is soft, Motherly and she's looking right at him with her baby blue eyes glittering in the sunlight. Mixes of blues and greens throughout her sparkling orbs.

  
"Hiya, how are you Love?" He asks trying to catch the air back in his emptied lungs, closing the curtain in order to buy the growing family of three some privacy before he's at her bedside wishing for a look of the bundle. "Happy that you made it safe," the Wife replies, voice soft as she cradles the bundle for a brief moment. "It's a Boy." The announcement catches him off Guard, but he'd been hoping for a Boy for the sake of it. Playing football with an energetic Lad or watching a young boy in his prime playing in the garden. But really he's just glad overall, head lowering as he relishes the face of a pale Baby Boy with closed eyes and a pout that Brian found all too familiar. The struggle was over, rewarded with a beautiful Son with shut hooded eyes. The worry of loss was fading rewarded with a life that was a part of him.

  
"Can I hold him Darling? Can I hold our Son?"

  
Even in such an exciting moment, Brian wants to grieve for his first son. This second boy was almost a mirror of his big and late Brother, only this child was a Barnes and Thomas was a May. Thomas had a head of browns and dark honeys, his Brother is bald with only faint signs of blonde on his scalp. The moment Cassandra passes the baby to him, speaking sternly as she talks him through the process of holding a newborn. "Move your arm, relax and let him hear your heart and take your body heat in." Brian felt something new and different than what he felt holding the stillborn for the first time. An overwhelming joy that had grown from relief. He was here, he was safe in his Father's arms. It may of been different back then, of course it had been. 

  
Two years ago, they were two idiots only getting past that longterm friendship that had blossomed into a romance that had it's perks and subtle imperfections, the moment Thomas was conceived; everything had changed. The realisations that they were barely thirty, they weren't married or engaged. He quickly accustomed, as did she. 

  
But when all had gone wrong and three months prematurely they had returned home without their baby; it was a life of broken glass and shattered hope. They were counting down to the due dates and the worser parts were in the cracks of their love, Mummy and Daddy isolated as they cried alone without a second thought as they gave up. They hated the people who love them because they never understood Thomas, pompous and ignorant they treated him like a Miscarriage like he hadn't been in the world, as though he wasn't a real baby. They all treated his death like this blessing, the world had enough sick babies and Thomas was just another un-needed bother for the world.

  
It made him so angry, frustrated that nobody would understand as much as they tried to. 

  
Today, they weren't two individuals anymore, they were a strongly bonded Man and Wife holding onto a even still growing bond that was nothing more or nothing less than an intimate love. Those subtle imperfections were the keys to a successful bond and were also the key to disaster on route because the signs and the avoids were misread and ignored, vengeful arguments built on accidental misunderstandings fired by pitiful hopes of winning the fight. 

  
This baby sleeping softly and innocently in his arms, was going to be their miracle. He was going to be the apple in his parents' eyes, the making up of six years without a child that should've been there. Brian knew so, his eyes travelling over the sleeping life as he smiles towards the Woman eager for his reaction, his thoughts inside the mind. The baby in his arms was a literal ray of sunshine, this pale porcelain complexion and blonde tuft of hair made him ever so more lovable. He had so many things to pass down from his own perspective, many ingredients thrown to raise the perfect Son. 

  
_It's all meant to be_

  
Even if he was given choices, he couldn't turn back the clocks of time. He wouldn't even go back as a detour, his present with his loving Wife and Cherub Son was all of the time, all of the happiness in his world. The world that doesn't include Queen, nor does it even include his friends. "He's so much like you Darling," he barely whispers, looking into that innocent and delicate face of a Boy. "Everything about him is, absolutely perfect." Cassandra moves, legs crossed while her husband sits on the edge of the bed. She wraps her arms around his shoulders. "The moment it all happened and I held him, I realised just how much we've changed." She states, eyes serious and grip tight on his shoulders. "When we found out Thomas. I was unprepared. I was frantically looking into abortion and then when he moved I wanted him to be in my arms already, the day never came. My baby never came home." Stray tears magnifying beige freckles are wiped away by his coarse guitar playing thumb his heart shattered at her display of emotions, confusion to what he could do to make her feel better. "I'm so sorry Brian, I feel like such a failure already. I should've done more for Thomas."

  
"Hey, hey, hey." He breathed pulling her flush against his chest while his son sleeps in his left arm. Cassandra's words are lingering for a while it causes Brian to question what to say to comfort her. "I love you, so much Cass." He says, pressing a kiss on his Wife's rosy cheek. "We can't keep dwelling on the bads in life Darling," he looks at the baby, "he'll always know about his big Brother and if he has his questions then we'll answer them whole-heartedly and truthfully. It's all we can do, none of that had been your fault. He was very ill and as time goes on you'll realise looking at Thomas' Brother that his passing was more ideal than a life of pain and mental torture, he just wouldn't of coped."

  
"I know that, but when it's my body that was protecting him; I feel even worse. The failure, it's all just a horrible thing."

  
The baby is passed back to it's Mother, stirring in his sleep and Brian feels panicked by this wondering if he should've held him more gently, maybe he should've kept him or maybe he was overreacting. The feeling of being a new Father was irreplaceable, it was like winning a trophy for saving the world; you simply couldn't win anything bigger. But Brian also felt like a bag of nerves just watching the rises and falls of his chest, soft baby whimpers falling from his baby pout. He was a human, but he was a tiny little one and that overwhelming thought had Brian blushing unable to process the sight a human so small and delicate. What if his fingernails were too long, what if he became so nervous he'd drop the baby?  
"It wasn't your fault, Love."

  
They look back down at their new baby, the life they had created in moments of their own love and they realised that they needed to move on for this child's sake. No matter how difficult. She was at a vulnerability, another stage of grief as a Mother weeping for her lost Child- it was different for him, he never spent the six months of Thomas' premature life carrying him in his stomach, he didn't even so much feel his presence like Cassandra did. He wouldn't understand her burden carriage, but he felt empathetic enough to see that she was hurting everyday feeling the absence of something she had carried. 

  
He was a Father of a stillborn, he wouldn't forget the trauma of holding his lifeless Son but he felt a new beginning holding a Second Son, here alive and looking as beautiful as his Mother. He ever so badly needed to know if this child had a name, how much longer could he dodge the initials or continue motioning towards the bundle like a silent act. "Did you sign the certificate, because I don't think we've even discussed name." She looks up from looking down at her Son, she giggled, eyes locked with his for a long moment. Her natural baby curls were framing her cheeks and the rest of her wavy hair was resting behind her shoulders tucked behind her ears. 

  
"Charles Harold May, Bri we discussed this remember?" It rang a bell in his mind and he nods in agreement finding the name fitting his standards, the name suiting to the chubby cheeks and blonde baby. "Charlie May," she coos, soft fingers brushing the newborn's chubby cheeks. "He looks just like his Daddy," she adds looking at Brian with her button nose wrinkled and a childlike grin on her face. She was so beautiful he thought, so natural and so beautiful. The perfections of a woman molded deliciously onto porcelain flesh and rose tinted cheeks. So much of that, pasted onto his Son which in his eyes was pure and blissful perfection.

  
But he couldn't see himself in his Son, no matter how much he squinted his eyes trying to find a glimpse of the namesake genes that co-created this beautiful life. But Cassandra was adament that Charles was a definite May, a mere mirror of Brian finished with blonde and honey gold patches of hair, tracing Charles' brow bone which Brian justifies, I guess he has my eyebrows, he thought feeling insecure about his looks. Did he want Charles to look like him, of course not compared to Cassandra who had the looks to produce breathtakingly beautiful babies, why would anyone want Brian May involved in babymaking when the probable result would be a ball of curls and a huge nose with the incabability of being cool. Or sexy.

  
"I hope he doesn't inherit my nose," Brian remarked pinching the bridge of his nose, she huffed pressing fluttering butterfly gentle kisses to his insecurity giggling at his soft whimper of appreciation, "you might like it Cassie, but I find it to be quite big." He complained, she was rolling her eyes at him practically ready to shut him up, her response was quite a surprise. "The bigger the better," she smirks sinking her teeth into her bottom lip before pressing her lips to his own like a perfect fit of a jigsaw piece. "I love your nose, because it's so defined unlike mine." He presses a kiss to her button nose, "and your nose is nothing near as big as that thing in your knickers." 

  
A blush creeped up on his neck and ears, had she really just said that? Was it even a good thing to be big down there, Brian wasn't so sure. His insecurities creeping up on him once more as he laughs nervously feeling out of place. But all of those times making love, she perfected those imperfections with her tender love that he never thought was possible and care that made him forget his own name, feelings never felt before. "God I love you so much," another kiss. "And I also love my little Boy," He cooed, heart bursting at the sight of his two loves of his life. Never did he think he could've loved so much in his life. "When are we planning the next one?" 

  
"I hope not too soon, because I refuse... Absolutely refuse to make love in this much everlasting pain and it's all on you." 

  
He nods slowly, a smile creeping on his lips looking down to Charles' sleeping form. Trying and trying, failure after failure presented to them on sympathy and words that hurt deeper than wounds. Spending weeks and weeks, months and years wondering who was the dud and who was the supplier. No proof of infertility, no proof of dud reproductive organs; but everything just seemed to go wrong. Brian felt pain after pain, holding a crying Wife questioning why everybody else had one of their own- they didn't seem to.

  
He felt a sting of emotion, a mild heartbreak as he watched the scene of a Mother cooing softly over her baby. Wiping away the trickles of warm tears, smiling through a light sob. Smiling and crying, he couldn't help placing his hand on Charles' silk soft forehead, fingers massaging skin gently with tender and loving care. "He's so much like you," he whispers again, eyes travelling through every inch of the cherub face with tiny lips moving clicking like locks. Cassandra smiles up, somehow feeling she had done them both something good. A good for a lifetime, Brian watches his Wife; hair falling down her tilted head and he notes her smile is warm and genuine, his heart fluttered. "You think he does?" She asks, softly cheeks flushing a pale pink. He nods, trying little to hide his smile.

  
"Not an imperfection in sight," he says with certainty, hazel orbs drinking in her vibrant blue. "No more, parties for us then." He can't help but chuckle softly, the newfound employment of responsibility being on his shoulders was somehow more of a positive outlook than a negative draining of youth and life. Cassandra's expression to Brian's realisation was more disbelief than belief and he could understand her skeptical expression on her rested features. Queen was building, faces of four men were plastered on every wall around and songs written with their names credited boldly. It was going to be a difficult withdrawal, no more heavy binge drinking competitions against other big and relevant names, no more obsceneries and messes for him to clean. But what was a party without a Wife he could go home with, when a home seemed more relaxing and less draining.

  
Cassandra and Charles were his family, his parents and her parents were a different label of family. His Mother often said that when Brian was growing up, Wives and Children are of an intimate family and parents and siblings, are the close family. Nobody else comes so much as close to the bubble. Growing up, he never understood his Mother's words, knowing only a life involving his parents and close friends, but it started to make sense, it should've a long time ago but he blamed Queen for some, if not most of his ignorance.

  
Queen wouldn't come close to his family, nobody was going to come close to his family- he'd use his power to stop those obstacles.

**Author's Note:**

> I always found Brian an interesting human being with his humbleness and all around being open with his struggles. A while ago I wrote this, it started off as just a silly idea but when I read over it I thought it was worth posting. It was hard to finish with Brian's feelings especially but some surfaced interviews where he talks about how he adores his own children really helped and listening to Sail Away Sweet Sister. Apparently that song was written in dedication to his Stillborn Older Sister, I heard so don't quote me, I'm not sure if its true but it's another reason to stan Brian May. Comment if you want.


End file.
